Tears Are Not Enough 소설 & 이야기

Another tear slipped from my eyes. . . . . . TBC

"Damn it…" He pulled a couple of tissues and dried his tears, but they were unstoppable. He hadn't even wanted to cry in the first place, so why did his eyes betray him like they had a will of their own? Could he have been possessed by an overly sentimental devil with a penchant for tears? Was this some kind of black magic? No, he reckoned he should hire a voodoo specialist to purge whatever strange force had come over him before he truly became a crybaby! Outside the consultation room, Giselle raised her hand to dry the tears she'd expected to have cascaded down her face. However, she was baffled when her fingers came away dry. Could she have been so overwhelmed by panic that even tears eva

My face is swollen, eyes raw. He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “I’m here,” he whispers again. I nod, eyes closed. The tears just keep falling. It doesn’t make it better. But it helps. Just a little. And maybe—for now—that’s enough. ##########

Then tears streamed down her stunning face. A gasp escaped Fiona’s lips, and her eyes were wide in disbelief at the cruelty of Preston leaving his new bride alone at Home Affairs. Fiona hugged her best friend tightly with tears brimming in her eyes and said, “I am so sorry, my dearest Brooklyn. Preston doesn’t deserve you. Why didn’t you call me after that heartless man abandoned you? I would have come and picked you up.”

I cried about that too. "Maybe that's why I can't cry for mommy. I've spent all the tears on you there's nothing left in the reserve." I laugh like it's the funniest thing on earth. "I wish tears could bring people from the dead. I'd have cried so much my eyeballs would pop out of their sockets." My eyes roll behind my head and I pass out. Cause of death : Despair and anguish.

She didn’t cry. At some point, the production of tears stopped completely. Her tear glands had been overused countless times over the past three days. The remaining tears were barely enough to moisten the mucous membranes at the bottom of her eyes. Her nose wasn’t sore anymore, the discomfort in her throat had gone away, and the muscles in the back of her neck had relaxed.

So Liam can come rushing in like some hero from a book I’ll never be part of. But I don’t take the bait. I step around her and walk back to my room, my spine straight even though everything inside me feels like it’s crumbling. Once inside, I close the door behind me, leaning against it. And then… I slide down. To the floor. Tears escape before I can stop them. Quiet, raw sobs that rise from somewhere deep. Somewhere hollow. God, how much longer can I live like this? I’ve always been alone. No mother. No father. No family photos. No birthday candles. No one who’s ever said they were proud of me.

He thought of everything. The tears come up so quick they’re not even tears yet—just that burn in the nose, the way your chest goes hot and hollow at the same time. I press my knuckles to my mouth and breathe through it. I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because someone showed up and didn’t make me feel smaller for needing them.

I don’t cry much, but when I did, it was because I was overwhelmed and everything was just too much for me. The tears ran down my face unchecked and I didn’t even bother to wipe them away. I could feel the lingering sadness, the pain of loss, like I’d lost one of my family members, but I wasn’t sobbing; I just needed to get the tears out, like it would rid me of the sadness.

I can't help the tears in my eyes again. How is it?